A Certain Kind of Light
by Moonlit Masterpiece
Summary: His life had been shattered into a thousand pieces and none of them fit together anymore. Until she came along. He knew she was hiding something. He knew she was dangerous... He didn't care.
1. Damn Dog

_**A/N: **_Alright people, this is a rewrite of the original prologue for this story! Let me know what you think! Someone pointed out to me how unrealistic the original was and I definitely agreed! Hopefully this is a bit better? I don't know, I like it better either way! R&R!

* * *

_**Damn Dog**_

The Humvee pulled to a sudden stop, the abrupt lack of movement bringing its inhabitants back to awareness after the long, lulling ride. As their commander pulled the door open, allowing dust to swirl inside the vehicle, all the men moved towards the opening like moths to light, waiting to hear what their commander had to say.

"Time to stretch your legs, boys!" He said, his voice raised so that he may be heard over the roar of wind and engines. "Don't stray off from the vehicle, no matter what you see, no matter what you hear! If there is gun fire hit the ground and get your asses back to the vehicle. I don't want to lose any men today, it looks real bad on my report! Now, I'm going to say this one more time! Stay close to the damn vehicle!"

The commander took a good look at all of their faces, eager, young, and more than anything, reckless. With an inward sigh he motioned for all of them to move out. There was only so much he could do to protect them. Silently he cursed the government for sending in boys to do a man's job.

Once all of them were out he slammed the door shut and turned to face them, taking in their gawky limbs and nervous shuffling. Special Ops his ass. More like Pre-K. Maybe in a couple years…

"Stay behind the vehicles as we move forward and for your mama's sake don't stray off! We'll be moving in a forward direction for the next ten miles so keep up, we're not slowing down for anybody, there's too much scum in these parts that we don't have time to play around like school girls in the park!"

"Sounds like someone didn't get his share of Wheaties this morning," a young man chuckled in the back, a string of choked laughter followed the remark. The commander knew that voice.

"Anderson!" The commander shouted so loud that everyone fell silent. "You got something you want to share with the class?"

"No, Sir!" The young man answered, his back straighter, the smile wiped off his face.

"Now that's just too bad," the commander smiled, "But you know what, since we're just standing here, how about all of you drop and give me twenty? Now that sounds like a great idea! I'm glad I thought of that!"

There were a number of groans as the men dropped to the ground to pump out twenty push ups. This wasn't the first time one of them shoved a foot down their throat, especially not Anderson. But the guys didn't care how often the guy screwed up, he kept them calm and laughing in this shit hole, it was nice having him around.

Once they had dished out their twenty, the commander shouted "Move out!" and they were off. Trailing behind a vehicle that kicked dirt in their faces.

It was amazing, what a lack of scenery there is in the dusty deserts of Iraq, the mile upon endless mile of undulating sand left something to be desired. After nearly four miles, the men started talking, it was a vicious debate, curses flying like daggers, death threats and 'yo mama insults'. Clearly though, a loaded pizza pie won over cheeseburgers hands down.

Suddenly the caravan stopped. It was abrupt and alarming and everyone's guard went up simultaneously. Slowly, the troops made there way around the desert vehicle where a large black heap lay on the ground. The commander motioned a few men forward as he himself took a few cautious steps toward the heap. Three men inched closer until they surrounded it.

August Anderson let out a breath and knelt next to it, his heartstrings loosening considerably. At first glance he had thought it was human, a woman or a child whose life was stopped short. But it was just a dead animal with a cloth thrown over it. He smiled a bit at the state of sheer panic the damn dog sent America's great Special Forces team into.

"It's just a dog," he chuckled, throwing the cloth away to reveal the beast.

He drew in a sharp intake of breath, his eyes wide with fear. Ingeniously placed where the dog's heart should have been sat a grenade. A grenade with no pin.

Time seemed to move in slow motion then.

His thoughts moved at a thousand times its normal speed. Unfortunately he was still human and his body couldn't react so quickly.

He made it half way to his feet. Vaguely he could hear his commander yelling, men shouting, the sound of his lungs moving air, his heart pounding behind his ears. Eyes wide with horror, he watched as searing white light overcame his vision. And he took flight without wings…

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Alright so if you're like-  
'If that grenade didn't have a pin in the first place it would have gone off a long time ago!'-  
then I would like to tell you that you are right!  
However, that is where the black cloth comes in!  
I figure when he pulled the cloth away, the cloth was attached to the pin and there you go, caboom!  
Let me know what you thought!


	2. Reality's Weight

_**A/N:**_ Alright people! This did not go as I planned it to, so if it sucks... I apologize... I don't think it's too bad! I just couldn't get it right, I didn't know how I wanted anyone to react so I just let it leave my fingertips however it pleased. Hopefully that wasn't a mistake! Read and review and let me know what you think!

M&M

* * *

_Reality's Weight_

The young man adjusted his glasses for about the millionth time, hands shaking as he pushed the frames up his thin nose. Green eyes stared towards the vending machines but that's not what he was seeing. The nurse had told him to get something to eat, to get away for a few moments. But he couldn't get away. All he could picture in his mind was his little brother, bruised, broken, bandaged. The doctor's words kept running through his head; 'Severe damage, irreparable'. The headache behind his eyes throbbed harder.

"Mr. Anderson," the hand on his shoulder startled him, "He is starting to wake up."

The man jumped from his seat as though touched with a live wire. It had been days since his brother arrived in this US hospital, and he had been unconscious for just as long.

"He's awake?" The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying and his feet led him to the elevator. Untouched lunch left on the table.

"I said he is waking up, he's still not all here yet. But soon the sedatives will wear off," the nurse smiled.

He couldn't manage a smile. The weight of reality making his chest hurt. What was he going to tell his baby brother, how would he explain? There were so many questions and simply not enough answers.

"Are you sure you're ready for this," the nurse asked with concern, taking in his deep set frown and furrowed brow. She placed a hand on his arm, pulling him to a stop.

For a moment he simply stared at her. He couldn't be certain. Was he ready for this; did it matter? The answer to that question, at least, was certain. It didn't matter. His brother needed him and he would be there.

"Yea, I'm ready."

xXx

Back in room 218, the other Mr. Anderson was waking. There were several things that he noticed; first, he was stiff. His face felt stiff, his right shoulder was stiff, his chest was sore and his neck felt as though it was stuck in place. Second, the room he was in was silent save for the rush of oxygen rampaging and escaping his lungs. But the last thing he noticed was what concerned him the most. It was dark, unsettlingly so. It was as though something had sapped all the light from the world. It disturbed him, like he knew what was wrong in the back of his head but his consciousness couldn't quite reach it yet.

Then a terrible thought hit him, what if they had been captured? Had he been tortured and left to die; where was the rest of his unit? With a certain urgency he lifted his left arm to the side, searching for something familiar or something to give him a clue as to where he was. His hand hit something plastic, like the side of a bed. Reality smacked him in the face then.

He remained silent for a few moments and in doing so he heard the beeping that gave away his location. The steady rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor told all, he was in the hospital. But which hospital, where? And why the hell was it so dark?

It took tremendous effort to push himself into a sitting position and he almost immediately regretted it. Aside from the protesting pain in his chest and shoulder, the room started spinning frantically, like he was in Dorothy's house during the tornado. If he could just turn on a light or something this would all be better, maybe they had turned them off so he could sleep better.

Once the room stopped spinning, he relaxed back against the pillows. This was all too much for him, his hands were shaking, his heart was beating erratically and his head felt as though it would explode. In an attempt to squeeze his nose he found the bandages, thick and tightly bound. Potent panic pulsed through his veins. Why were his eyes bandaged? He couldn't wait, he had to know. Now.

Nimble fingers searched for the end to his bandages and once he found it he began unraveling. Layers and layers of white gauze fell away but there was no change in this darkness. His heart pounded harder. Denial preparing for takeoff. He was nearing the end, a light breeze skimming across once covered skin.

"Auggie," a voice exclaimed, followed my frantic footsteps. The sudden noise frightened him so badly that he jumped out of his skin, like a little kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "What are you doing? You're going to hurt yourself, stop that!"

The young man's voice brought back thoughts of green eyes, hearty laughter, and music. But the smell was what makes the name and person spark in his memory. The scent of musky cologne to mask the fact that this person hasn't showered in days. Not bad, but familiar, comforting.

"Anders," as the word leaves his mouth it sounds broken and dry. In this ocean of fear and darkness he's found his lighthouse.

"Yea, its me, Auggie, it's me." His brother's voice was full of emotion and Auggie couldn't tell exactly which one was dominant.

Warm, long-fingered hands pulled him forward and held him tight and he found his own arms reaching around his brother's form. It had been nearly a year and a half that Auggie had seen his older brother. Hot moisture ran down his back and he realized that his brother was crying. That was enough to wake his fear anew.

"Anders," he whispered. His voice couldn't handle much more. He pushed his brother back and returned his attention to the bandages that he had made a mess of. "Tell me what's wrong with me."

It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

For several long moments, Anders was silent. Still trying to find a way to break the news.

"Anders?"

"I'm sorry, I-" he broke off, running his hands through his hair as he had always done under stress. "Maybe the doctor should tell you…"

"No," Auggie nearly shouted. His fear was turning to anger. He was already almost certain what was wrong, but he needed to be told. The uncertainty was killing him.

"You tell me. Please?" He deadpanned.

"T-the doctor said that- Aw hell Aug. You- you're not going to see again. You- you…"

The unsaid words hung in the silence like poison laced on a glass. The quiet so thick it could be cut with a knife. But no one could say anything. The weight of reality was too much for either brother to handle.

"No." Auggie whispered. "No. There's something they can do."

Anders stayed quiet, unable to tell his brother that he was wrong. Nothing could be done, the damage was as bad as it sounded.

"No!" He shouted. He wanted everyone to hear him. He wanted everyone to know that this wasn't his life, it couldn't be. It must belong to some other poor son of a bitch, it couldn't be him. There had been some mistake and he wanted everyone in the hospital to know it.

Frantically he started pulling at the cotton bandages around his face again, ready to tear off the rest just to prove his point. Strong arms pulled his hands away from his face, he pushed them away but they just kept coming back. His strength was spent, he couldn't fight anymore, he was just too tired. A sob broke from his chest, tender, heartbreaking. He had to give in because there was nothing else he could do but accept the cold hard truth.

Pulling his brother into his chest, Anders let Auggie cry into his shoulder well into the night. All the while he thought of how he had pictured this day, the day when his honorable, brave kid brother would come home from Iraq after a long tour. They would embrace, just as they were now. Only his tears would be for a different reason. How had everything gone so terribly wrong?

* * *

Okay. So there it is. I felt almost guilty writing this, like I was putting Auggie's privacy out for the world to read. I know, weird, right? By the way! I have to thank you guys for being so encouraging! I've never had so many people put a FF on alert before! I thank you for having confidence in me, I hope I haven't (and won't) let you down! And I promise you that the romance is on its way! This is not an angst fic!

Also, I've decided to update on Tuesdays, that will be my bottomline deadline. Hopefully I'll be posting before then, but I can pretty much guarantee Tuesdays at least.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts!

M&M


	3. Named

**_A/N: _**The most important things first... I LOVE you guys! You have been so amazing and I truly can't thank you enough for the support. You guys just make my day.  
Next order of business. As we now know that Auggie has four brothers, older brothers, I had to change some wording in the second chapter. Anders is now OLDER brother! Just so's ya know.

I love your imput and I'm so curious about how this next chapter is going to come across, so let me know! I would LOVE to hear your thoughts!  
Now, it may be a teensy bit confusing but in a good way I promise!

Sorry for the delay! I planned on posting earlier but I had a mental road block that was keeping me asunder!

And now it's time for the dreaded **_Disclaimer_**: I do not own Covert Affairs.

* * *

Named

The night was smothering in its darkness, the inky canvas choking the light of the full moon. Her strides were long as she vacated the desolate area, pulling her black coat tighter around bloodstained clothes. There was more of a fight than she had expected, the struggle had been intense. But the inevitable happened; she won. A smile crept onto her face at the thought. It was difficult to remember the last time she lost a fight. Subconsciously her fingers went to her throat, worrying the scar that extended from her chin to her chest. Though, she won that fight too.

Police sirens in the distance urged her Chuck Taylor's to move faster, she had nothing to worry about, by the time the authorities arrived she would be well out of harms way. The wound on her thigh, however, was begging her to get home. Her ringing cell cut through thoughts of rest and with one swift motion she flipped it open and held it to her ear.

"Riley."

"Has it been taken care of?" A male voice asked.

"Yes."

"And you have it?"

"Yes."

"Nothing left behind," the voice smiled, pleased with the outcome. "Excellent work. Clean up, I have another job for you."

It wasn't a request, she had to take the job assigned to her, but that didn't make her roll her eyes any less. She was exhausted. A lot of blood was lost in her fight and she wasn't sure how much longer she could stay awake. But that was what her title entailed. She had known what she was getting into then and she wasn't about to back out now.

"Of course." Her voice was conversational, natural as she entered bustling streets once more, joining back with society.

"I will call in an hour with a rendezvous."

Click.

Once inside her studio apartment, temporary home though it may be, she felt relieved. Before she even made it into the bathroom she had stripped off half of her clothes and cranked the hot water in her shower. It would be a godsend just to get the blood off. That was what she hated most about the job. Wearing another man's blood.

The water ran crimson with a mixture of blood and dirt, taking with it her exhaustion. A long time ago she had learned how to toss counterproductive feelings and emotions to the wind. Rest would come eventually, she knew that, but at that moment sleep wasn't a concern, she had a job to do.

As she slipped out of the shower, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Just barely, she could hear the click of her front door closing. Her breathing still steady, she pulled a small knife from beneath her sink. Slowly she turned the knob on the bathroom door, her mind moving rapidly through different scenarios that could potentially play out.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in a towel," the intruder asked, sitting on her bed with a smile. "If only you'd let me remove it for you."

"I suppose the Director sent you," she asked, ignoring his comment. "I had been told he would call, but instead he sends his lapdog."

"Evangeline, you really should lighten up a bit," the man said softly, seductively. But with her gazing at him coldly he took on a more serious composure. "Agent Emma has been found. She is in Georgetown University Hospital, we need-"

"Been found? What happened to her? Last I heard she was undercover in Femme," she was instantly concerned. If one of their Agents was in the hospital, they were in trouble.

"She was found in her apartment, shot down. They're saying it was a burglary but we know that's not true."

"Carter… What happened to her? Did Femme find out she was undercover," her voice was urgent. She had known the woman, Emma had been her first partner, her mentor in a horrifying world. She had been gone for two years, not a word from her. They said she was corrupt. Evangeline didn't believe Them.

"We don't know. But we need you to keep an eye on her while she's in recovery. She has intel and we need it," he looked at her seriously then, his eyes burning her skin with intensity. "Evan, don't trust her. If I had my choice, you wouldn't even be on this case but the director says you're the one to do it, that you're the only one Emma will talk to…"

Evan turned from him and went back to her bathroom. The wound on her leg needed to be dressed before she went on any other jobs. To her dismay, Carter followed her.

"She's not corrupt, Carter. She was undercover. How the hell did she survive anyways? If she was compromised and Femme was trying to get rid of her, then she shouldn't be alive."

"We don't know. But it doesn't matter, we need that intel. You will go in as Vera Renee McLain, get the intel and get out. It's a quick job."

Her eyes flew to his in disbelief. He knew her name, her birth name. Instantly her guard went up. Once one was in The Circle, their worldly names were forfeit. No one knew real names save for the Director. It was too dangerous, missions could be compromised. So how did Carter know hers? And why?

"My name," she whispered. "Why use my name?"

He looked to her leg then.

"You're injured," he evaded the question, "Do you need help?"

"Why, Carter?"

"The Director has plans for you, Evan, or should I say, Vera." She could have cut the smirk from his face. "You will arrive at the hospital tomorrow morning, I'll meet you there with your ids and new safe house location. You will play the part of Emma's younger sister..."

Carter moved towards her, placing his hand on the leg she had up on the toilet seat. She didn't pull away, but stared at him with hard eyes.

"You lost that privilege long ago, take your hand away before I have to explain to the Director why I broke it." Her voice was like ice.

For a long moment the two stared at each other. Eyes locked in an internal battle. Once again, Evan won. The man turned on his heel to leave but stopped short in the doorway.

"I almost forgot." He spun towards her and took a step forward. "You have the intel."

"Yes."

After retrieving the small memory card she held it out to him. There was moment, however short, that she wondered if she could reclaim what was once between them. The moment passed. It had been her decision to end it, their relationship was getting in the way of her job. The job always came first.

He smiled as his fingertips brushed her skin, a sad smile.

Once Cater was gone and both locks on her front door were secured, she returned to her small bathroom and leaned against the counter. She observed her condition; slanted honey colored eyes gleaming, seeming to grow brighter with the purple circles that were forming beneath, long platinum hair hung past her shoulders, her towel absorbing the remaining moisture, small cuts and substantial bruises from head to toe. Who was this woman?

When she thought of Vera Renee she could see a little girl with white blonde pigtails and missing front teeth, who's hands were clean of blood.

Now, Evangeline Riley, that was a different character entirely. A determined, hardworking, badass who's job was to cleanup when others failed at their duty. With a sigh she looked away from the mirror and got dressed. It seemed that Evangeline Riley was a dying woman. It was time for her to take on a new identity. One that, for the first time in her career, she didn't know how to play. Herself.


	4. Fingers Crossed

**_A/N: _**Here it is! This chapter was hard for me... Sigh. Well, this one explains a lot and it really sets up the story! I promise you that it will pick up from here! I thank you all for your support, it means so much to all of us authors out there. Getting a review is like Christmas seriously! Anyways. I hope you enjoy and guess what... Tomorrow's my birthday! You know what an awesome birthday present would be? Reviews! Okay I'm just kidding, but I would like to hear from you! Thanks for remembering to be awesome!

_Lora_

**_

* * *

_**

**_Fingers Crossed_**

He sat in silence with his head leaned back against the pillow in the sweats and t-shirt that he made Anders bring for him, those hospital gowns _so _weren't his style. It had been a four days and thirteen hours since he had woken up in Georgetown University Hospital, and he was already trying to block out, well, everything. With his headphones firmly in place, he did just that.

The absence of lyrics soothed him. He didn't want to hear a voice right now; not Anders', not his own and especially not Dr. Wyatt's. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to be lost in the music; the smooth notes of the sax, the frantic beats of the drums. The very essence that was Charles Mingus. There was nothing like it.

He would have been lying if he said he didn't hear the knock on the door, but he still remained blissfully ignorant. But the sound of heeled feet on the tiled floor caused him to sit up straighter and as the door clicked closed floral perfume tugged on memories previously residing in the back of his mind. He knew that scent, but it was too vague to name the one it belonged to.

"I could always tell when you were ignoring me, August Anderson."

He couldn't help but smirk as her voice matched with a name in his head. Joan Campbell. His heart jumped in his chest, happy beyond reason that she was here. He thought they'd forgotten about him.

"I never could charm you, Joan," he sighed, pulling himself to sit at the edge of his bed. The pain in his side flared up again but he did his best to ignore it. Pain was something he was used to, it came with the job.

The sound of metal scraping on the tiled floor told him that Joan was pulling up the chair to sit in front of him. He felt terrible, he should have been doing that for her. With a lot of effort, he swallowed his pride. It was something he knew he would be doing a lot of after trying unsuccessfully to find the bathroom on his own the first time.

"It's good to see-" she paused but only briefly before carrying on as usual, "see you. From what I hear you're lucky to be alive."

"Oh come on, it's just a scratch," he smiled weakly. "Just another day on the field."

There was a silence for a few moments and Auggie, though he couldn't see her, could imagine the woman in front of him. He could feel her blue eyes evaluating him, sharp and intuitive, her long blonde hair would be pulled into a ponytail, her legs and arms would be crossed, but she would be still, perfectly so. She was observing the problem and deciding how to fix it, only this time, the problem couldn't be fixed.

"Three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a collapsed lung, and so much shrapnel you should feel like a corkboard… You're not okay, Auggie." Her voice was quiet, gentle even, but it cut through him like a knife.

He didn't want to talk about this. He was fine, that was it.

"Well, aside from a second opinion that I didn't ask for, why are you here," he barely recognized his own voice, it was cold like the steel of a dagger. "I'm no good to you anymore, Joan, didn't you hear? Lights are out. For good."

"I'm here for several reasons, August," Joan began, her voice all business. He could feel the disapproving look she was giving him, but when he really thought about it, he didn't give a damn. "When a CIA operative of your caliber goes down on the field, we don't take it lightly.

"I came first to inform you that I will return when you are healed enough to further discuss your future with the CIA, at this point in time, you are neither physically nor mentally prepared for that conversation-"

"My future with the CIA," he exclaimed incredulously. Were his eyes not bandaged they would be a huge as apples, "What would I be doing exactly, its not like I can-"

"You were never allowed to interrupt me at the Agency and I would rather that you didn't start now," Joan stated firmly. When Auggie was green, she was a senior agent and a couple years later she was his boss. It was needless to say that Joan was used to overpowering him. "From what your 'commander' told me, you are quite the technician."

Auggie blushed then. He had always been a nerd in high school, a nerd who happened to play soccer instead of an athlete who happened to be smart. That was just how it was in school, you couldn't be both. But at the Agency, he was a field operative; cunning, intuitive, strong. A damn fine agent. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted everyone to know how much of a computer nerd he really was. It would be high school all over again. Jai Wilcox, among others, would make sure of that.

"I took computer science in college," he mumbled.

"You took two broken walkie-talkies, a rubber band, and a half destroyed radio to make a working transceiver. I have my own MacGyver in my department, do you honestly think I'm going to let that slip through my fingers," her voice was soft and he could hear the smile on her face.

He opened his mouth to speak, not exactly sure what to say. What in the world was going on here; did this really have to do with the fact that he was savvy with all things technical, or was this about the fact that he'd saved Joan's life a lifetime ago? But before he could get anything out, Joan cut him off.

"But there are more urgent matters to discuss," her voice was the essence of serious and it made his skin crawl, "Late last night a woman was found gunned down in her apartment, but by some miracle she survived. That woman, our sources tell us, is a Femme operative."

It felt as though a late December wind had swept through the room. Femme was a highly regarded clan of female assassins and the reason Auggie had been sent to Iraq in the first place. It was ironic really, to think that he had been sent to Iraq for safe keeping. A lot of good that did. The clan of assassins caused the government a lot of trouble and they were thriving. Deadly.

Auggie had been the lead operative in a sting of sorts. He was the one who met with Femme, the one who successfully set up a fake hit that got one of their assassins incarcerated. Needless to say, they were none to happy with him. The plan was that he would go over seas until the assassin who collected intel from him was captured. The plan would keep him both safe and useful. The plan was flawed.

"She is just two doors down from this room in intensive care, we have reason to believe that she was not assassinated by her own clan. The job was messy and unfinished and Femme would never be that sloppy, but that leads to a bigger problem."

Joan took a breath as Auggie tried to remember how to do just that.

"We believe that some of the Sisterhood will be around the hospital to keep her safe from whoever did this to her, which puts you in danger of being recognized. We have decided to keep you here. I would rather have you close to home, keep our enemies in our line of sight. There will be agents with you around the clock and for your own safety I beg you not to look into this."

There were so many things buzzing through Auggie's mind at once. He was in danger, that was for sure but that familiar rush of adrenalin licked at his veins. He knew it was stupid to think he could handle something like this, but the man he was before the Accident was overpowering whoever this sightless stranger was that had taken over his body.

"You need to take caution Auggie and don't do anything stupid. Your last undercover with Femme was just over a year ago and I am sure their memories of you are vivid after their last hit was compromised because of your intel, but with the bandaging it should be harder for them to identify you."

He could feel Joan staring at him, lasers trying to penetrate his skin. She needed him to hear her, but he wasn't listening.

"You're your own worst enemy in this situation, Auggie," she all but whispered, "And I am asking you to stay out of it. Keep on the DL and you will be fine. Do NOT get involved in any way or form."

"But Joan," he sputtered, a thousand ideas running frantically through his mind, "The intel that we could get from her…"

"We have agents on that, but we have to do this strategically," she countered, knowing where her Auggie's thoughts were headed.

"But who would suspect me-"

"If one of them recognizes you, you are dead," Joan hissed. "I'm not losing you. Promise me you will let this go."

His jaw was tight, as though the tensed muscle could keep his roiling anger trapped inside of him.

"I promise." Subconsciously his fingers crossed.

xXx

Anders Anderson, a man of music and laughter, sat in the cold silence after hanging up the phone for the fourth time that morning. Running his fingers through his blonde hair, he thought of how angry his younger brother would be after telling him what he'd done. But he had to do it, they had to know. Besides, even if he wouldn't admit it, Auggie needed his family.

Briefly he glanced at the shiny baby grand across the room, condemned to silence. His fingers itched to play, to relieve the stress from his bones, the tension from his muscles, and the depression from his mind. But there was no time for that, he had to get back to the hospital, he had been gone too long already. He trailed his fingers lightly over the keys as he left the apartment.

The hospital was relatively quiet when he arrived, no doctors running about, or nurses shoving him out of their way. Were it not for the function of the building he would actually say it was peaceful, serene. As he stepped into the elevator he nodded to a young woman who stepped in after. She was hot, he noticed, his guy senses tingling. She smiled lightly at him but kept her gaze forward, ignoring him.

That was alright by him, it gave him the time to take in the gentle curves of her physique, the luscious contour of her mouth, her white blonde hair split between two thick braids. The scar on the underside of her chin fascinated him and he had to resist his outspoken nature to keep from asking what it was from. It was a thin scar, but as he traced it down her neck it continually grew thicker before disappearing into her t-shirt. He was startled to find that her eyes were shaped as though she was Asian, though her coloring was contrary to the heritage in every manner. But he was even more surprised to find those honey colored eyes staring back at him.

"I could say something witty here," she began, her voice was smoky and low, but her sarcasm was sharp, "But I find your shameless staring fascinating."

"Oh, uh," he sputtered stupidly. How old are you, Anders, he thought to himself, twelve? "I apologize, it's just that I've always believed that a beautiful woman shouldn't go unnoticed."

There was the infamous Anderson charm. She gave a half smile at that and he offered her his hand.

"Anders Anderson," he smiled. She lifted an eyebrow at the absurdity of his name but didn't comment.

"Vera, Vera McLain."

* * *

**_A/N_**: There you have it. The fourth chapter. I don't know whether or not to apologize for how long it is lol. Or how long it took for me to post for that matter!

I would love to hear your opinions!

_Lora_


	5. Friends In All the Wrong Places

**A/N**: Okay so this is loosely edited and I shall probably refine it soon so don't flame me too much I beg you! I was determined to upload this on Christopher Gorham's birthday and I have 13 minutes to do so! So without further adue, I give you the next installment! Enjoy and please tell me what you think!

The thing I always forget! **DISCLAIMER**: I obviously do not own CA. Happy? Good.

* * *

**_Friends In All the Wrong Places_**

Three loud, obnoxious, frustrated voices ricocheted from one cement wall to the next. It was a know fact that when more than one Anderson brother was in a room, they would be arguing. It had been an awful day and this just put the icing on the cake. But Auggie wasn't really listening, he was too distracted by the amounts of nothing that he was staring at through unbound eyes.

Early that morning, just after Anders announced that three of four possible Anderson brothers would be arriving at the hospital later that evening, Dr. Wyatt had come in to remove the thick bandages that were once wrapped about Auggie's head. Over the past several bandage changes, his eyes had been too swollen to open. This time, however, was different.

As someone who had never thought much about blindness, he had assumed it would be like keeping your eyes closed. He was so wrong. Blindness isn't darkness, he decided, it was the absence of everything. He couldn't say that his sight was black, but gone. He could feel his eyelids slide up and down but there was no change, no assurance that the world even existed anymore. It was enough to knock the air from his lungs.

It surprised him to realize how something as simple as eyesight grounded a person and without it, it was like floating through space with nothing to tether you to the earth. There was no direction in this darkness. All meaning of up and down, forwards and backwards was lost to him. That feeling, above all else, was terrifying.

"You're not thinking," a young voice exclaimed, "That doesn't make any sense!"

"No Jamie," a calm, older voice countered, "You're not thinking. You've just started school, it would be counter productive to-"

"He's my brother, too," Jamie plead in a near whisper.

Jamie, his one and only little brother. It hurt Auggie to think of him. The kid who had always idolized him could barely say two words to him now. He pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as the argument pursued. It was unbelievable how quickly his life had changed. All in a matter of seconds.

He lightly drew his fingers up and down the thin piece of fiberglass that his 'Orientation and Mobility Instructor' had given to him that morning. God, it seemed that everything had happened that morning. He would be glad when the whole day was over and he could go to bed and dream in color, it seemed to be the highlight of his life anymore. Though the nightmares didn't leave him much peace.

Shortly after Dr. Wyatt had left, a young man named Jake came in and handed him a long, thin stick as he said:

"Think of this as your new car. It's dependable, has great gas mileage, and will take you wherever you want to go, only thing is, it doesn't have a GPS but after you've spent a couple weeks with me, you won't need one."

"What the hell do I do with it?" Auggie asked skeptically, resisting the urge to throw it across the room and beat up the kid that gave it to him.

"Well, there's an art to it," he said and Auggie could tell he was smiling, "And I'll teach you the basics but some things you'll figure out will work best for you and other things won't, it's trial and error, really."

Auggie was quiet.

"Listen," Jake began, his tone was softer, more serious, "This is your key to independence, with this you'll have something to ground you. It's not perfect but it's going to allow you to have a life that you otherwise wouldn't have. Not only that, but people will see you. That's probably one of the most important things."

He didn't like the idea, it was like giving up, admitting that he was blind and that wasn't something that August Anderson did. He never gave up… So why should he start now? Shouldn't he be doing everything he could to be independent? And if that meant taking up a white stick, then he damn well would take up a white stick.

"Okay," he said with determination after a deep breath, "What do I do?"

As his brothers carried on, Auggie got more and more anxious. Their determination to disagree had always been tiring, but today it was unbearable. A thought hit him then. Jake had asked him to practice getting a natural rhythm with his cane so that they could get more done in less time. That was Auggie's motto.

There's no time like the present, he thought as Anders shouted something at his brother Lucas.

With that thought, Auggie stood to his feet and, using his 'new car', found the doorway and left. His brothers didn't even notice.

xXx

The room was dark and cool and she was past exhaustion. The sound of the oxygen machine, heart monitor, air conditioner, and her own heartbeat pulled together to make a strange lullaby and it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. She had been there for seventeen hours with no break and she longed for a nap and a toilet. Her eyes drooped closed, her head nodding forward.

"Go get a nap," Carter's voice said from behind her. She couldn't even remember his alias at the moment, she was so tired, but she did remember that he was her cousin from her mother's side.

"Right, I really shouldn't leave the hospital," she yawned, "She could wake at any moment."

"At least go get a coffee," he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off as she stood.

"I'll be in the chapel if she needs me," she said shortly.

Carter sighed and reluctantly watched her go.

The chapel at this time of day was empty, save one guy with short brown hair in an upper left pew. She took a seat a couple rows behind him on the right. It was almost a comfort not to be alone, she was alone way too often, it couldn't be healthy.

She propped her feet on the pew in front of her and sank down into the seat. The cross above the alter was imposing, like it was trying to press upon her the need to pray. Vera had never felt such a need, in fact, she avoided churches like the plague. Tonight, however, it seemed the best place to take a nap. She let her eyes drift closed.

"Do you believe there's a god," a voice said to no one.

She opened her eyes to see that no one else had entered the chapel, just her and the brunette. She had to think about the question for a moment. It was an understatement to say that she had contemplated the idea. But the thought of there being a god just pained her, if there really were a god out there, why would he let all the shit in her life happen? No, she'd rather believe that there was no god, than believe in a god who would forget about her.

"Depends on how much I've had to drink," she answered. The man let out a soft chuckle. "What about you?"

"Well, I'm in the hospital… I'm kind of having my doubts right now," he said. He sounded somewhat dismal, like he wished he could be anyone else right then. She knew the feeling. "What brings you to the House of the Holy?"

"Well, it's dimly lit, quiet, and mostly empty. Add those things together and you've got an adequate location for naptime," she couldn't help but smile. If there was a god, she could only image how much that statement would piss him off.

"Well, I don't want to keep you from your slumber," he laughed. She couldn't help but notice how attractive his laugh was. Not too loud, too long, or too forced. Just right.

"It's alright, I have all night. I'm Vera, by the way," saying her real name aloud still just felt like another alias. It was pretty pathetic when she thought about it.

"Auggie Anderson," he smirked, turning his head a bit in her direction.

"What brings you down here? Seeking inner enlightenment," she asked.

"It's more like three stubborn ass brothers that seem to think I'm deaf."

Vera noticed some bruises on his cheek, her curiosity welled in her chest. She was a paid collector of information, the need to 'know' was imprinted on her DNA. She stood to her feet and sat in the pew in front of him, his eyes following her all the way.

She took in all of him at once; his hair was short, growing in from having it all but shaved, military she guessed. All signs pointed to it, from the toned muscles, to the way he sat up straight in the pew. There was a certain stillness to him that suggested something more, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The guy had more bruises and cuts on his face than he had places to put them, his eyes rimmed red and slightly purple. Still he was handsome, his brown eyes soft and warm however unfocused. It took her only a short stuttered moment to realize he was blind. So ex-military then.

"Looks like you got into a bar fight," she smiled softly. The left side of his mouth pulled up into a half smile, it was charming, really. "Looks like the bar won."

"Actually I decided to spar with a bomb, those Iraqis don't mess around," this guy mastered the art of bitter humor almost as well as she had, she noted. "What are you in for?"

The change of subject was quick, it was obvious he didn't want to talk about it, but she was also glad he didn't end their conversation completely. She was enjoying this, it had been awhile since she'd had a conversation with a handsome man that she wasn't trying to manipulate.

"My sister," she said quietly, she had to make it convincing, you never know who's watching, "She- she um, was shot down in her apartment-" she took a breath then, "They're telling me it was a robbery, but that they didn't- I'm sorry…"

The hairs on the back of Auggie's neck went up. This woman was with the Femme agent. This woman was claiming to be her sister. This woman was his way back in. This woman was about to be his new best friend.


	6. Lost and Found

_**A/N: **_Hullo everyone! Thanks again for all the reviews and support, you CA fans are just too awesome! Welcome to all you newcomers, I welcome you with open arms and welcome your opinions so please review once you're done! I will tell you that the action starts in the next chapter, that's where it gets sort of interesting and then of course the romance is coming. Ah. I love the smell of forbidden love in the morning.

_**Disclaimer**_: (thought I'd forget didn't you;)) I do not own Covert Affairs.

* * *

_**Lost and Found**_

There were many things that Auggie noticed about the woman sitting in front of him but what he noticed the most was the way she smelled. It was like every time she moved even slightly a new waft of vanilla and grapefruit hit him in the face. He liked it, tangy and sweet at the same time.

"I'm sorry about your sister," he said softly. His heart was beating at a million miles a minute. Perhaps there was a god, after all, he just found his key back into the line of duty and they were in a chapel. A hair raising thought hit him then. What if she was with Femme, what if this wasn't a coincidence at all?

"Me too," the sadness in her voice was genuine, he could almost hear the tears rolling down her face, but Femme was choosy about it's agents. They only accepted the best. For a moment the two lapsed into silence. "Anyway… Auggie, huh? That's got to be short for something."

He smiled a bit, weighing his options. It was too late on his name, so there was no point in keeping his full name from her. For a moment he listened to her steady breathing as she waited patiently, so far he felt nothing sinister from her and he had been a damn good judge of character before. He could only hope that one of those agents Joan had mentioned was around here somewhere, just in case.

"August, actually," he smiled.

"Hmm. I don't think I've ever met anyone named August." Vera laid down across the pew, her exhaustion was starting to win her over. Her eyes drooped beyond her control. "So, you said you have brothers right? How many do you have?"

"Five," he chuckled. That always got people. Six boys in one family was a lot for anyone to take in, including him. "Unfortunately I have four of them upstairs."

That seemed like a good thing to say. With saying it out loud he confirmed that he wasn't alone, that he wasn't vulnerable. All of his brothers were sizable guys too, even Jamie. He suddenly felt somewhat guilty for disappearing on them but then again, he would be surprised if those goons had even noticed his Houdini act yet.

"Hah! And I thought one and a half sisters was bad," she giggled sleepily.

"One and a half?"

"Well, Emma is my step-sister, my dad's daughter," her voice was nearly a whisper and Auggie noticed that her breathing had slowed considerably. It seemed that if this woman was an assassin, she was too tired to make the hit on him tonight.

He didn't answer, instead he waited for her to speak again as he profiled her to the best of his abilities. He knew that she was tall, her strides had been relatively long when she approached him. She was light on her feet too, almost inaudible, and he blamed her limp for the noise she did make. There wasn't an identifiable accent in her voice, no inflections that gave away a location. Neutral. She knew how to talk to anyone too, at that point his own brothers didn't know how to talk to him but she didn't seem to have a problem. All of these things confirmed it. This girl was potentially dangerous.

But then again, maybe she was the agent trailing him to keep him safe. It was possible, after all he didn't know everyone at the Agency and he had been gone for some time. But a CIA agent wouldn't claim to be the sister of a Femme agent. He pinched his nose. He certainly wasn't top of his game. When she didn't speak for several minutes, Auggie was positive she'd fallen asleep and he relaxed against the pew.

"VERA!" The wooden doors of the chapel flew open, hitting the wall behind. The sudden burst of noise startled Auggie out of his sneakers.

"What? What is it," Vera's voice was followed quickly by her footsteps. Her tone was all carefully played concern. She certainly reacted like an agent of some sort, from zero to sixty in two seconds.

"It's Emma, she's awake!" The other voice was definitely male and Auggie was almost positive that he had run into the guy during his time with Jake.

"Oh God!" She almost made it out of the chapel when she stopped. "It was good talking with you, see you later?"

"Yea, definitely," Auggie smiled. They certainly would be talking, dangerous or not.

When the doors of the chapel clicked closed, Auggie let out a huge breath and closed his eyes. He was out of the woods, for now at least.

The door creaked open again and clicked shut quietly, footsteps made their way towards them but he pretended not to notice. He was on his guard though. The seat beside him lowered and he felt the warmth of someone's arm press close to his own. He relaxed as the smell of fresh grass and Old Spice reached his nose.

"So the chapel, huh?" Jamie. The kid always had a knack of finding Auggie when he didn't want to be found, but that was the way of younger siblings.

"Well, you know how much I love the smell of burning candles, musty bibles and condemnation, couldn't keep myself away." Auggie's smirk was somewhat forced. He wasn't sure he was ready to suffer through more awkward silences.

"How'd you get down here anyways," Jamie asked. The kid was talking away from him, unable to look his older brother in the face.

Auggie blushed despite himself. He had never been asked that question before and he hated that it referred to him now.

"I walked." His voice was more harsh than he had expected it to be and he immediately regretted it. The silence between the two was almost electric, one wrong move and the other would be shocked by the current. Auggie's guilt swallowed him whole. Elbowing his brother in the side, he said, "With a nurse on my arm, of course."

"Of course," Jamie laughed, his voice cracking a bit, "I'm like the only Anderson that can't flirt with a girl and have her in bed that night…"

"Hey, buck up," Auggie smiled, "You'll get there."

As their laughter died out, the two sat on companionable silence. Enjoying one another's company like they used to at home. The two would sit in the quiet for hours, watching TV, reading, studying, eating. As long as they were together they were happy.

"How'd you know where to find me," Auggie asked softly.

"Well, they didn't have a library so this was the safest bet," Jamie yawned, stretching his arms across the back of the pew. "I kind of wanted to escape too, they were pissing me off and then they started ignoring me so… well I was going to ask if you wanted to bail but you already had."

"They started ignoring me a long time ago," Auggie sighed. "What were the schmucks fighting about this time?"

"Funny enough? They were arguing over who got to take you home," Jamie chuckled nervously, afraid of his older brother's reaction.

"I'm going home, Jameson," Auggie said assertively. "I'm not living with anybody."

It sounded ridiculous even to him, but he knew his apartment and from what he was told, they couldn't rent it out without his consent and he certainly hadn't consented. No one should have touched it since he left. He would be fine. Right?

"Yea, I know."

Jamie tapped his foot on the floor something he always did when he was nervous.

"Out with it, Jamie."

"Uh. Well, uh. You know, I- I graduated high school," Auggie could tell Jamie was smiling, he wished he could have been there to watch his little brother get his diploma.

"I know, man, I'm proud of you," Auggie turned to his brother and after fumbling for a moment he grasped his shoulder, "But where are you going with this?"

"I was thinking of going to George Washington U… I uh- I want to study Computer Sciences there and I thought," he took a deep breath then and spit the rest out in a rush, "So I thought instead of living in a dorm I would live with you and- and, you know, help out or- or whatever…

"I was going to ask you anyways, well, when you got back," Jamie sighed and stared straight ahead. "I mean, I always thought you and I- you know- we would make good roommates."

Damn. Somehow Jamie always got to him, somehow he always knew how to get Auggie to agree to something he wasn't even sure he should do. Auggie could feel his eyes getting wet but it was strange how his vision -or lack thereof- didn't blur. Something about this entire situation was relieving to him, in some ways that he wasn't ready to admit, he was glad that he wouldn't be alone.

"You know something, Jamie, I think we should definitely talk about that," Auggie smiled as he picked up the rigid white cane he laid beside him on the pew, he all but ignored the soft 'oh' that Jamie let out at the sight of the thing. "Lets get back to the room and call off the dogs, yea? 'Sides, I'm hungry. They have a bar in this place?"

"Oh yea, you know all the docs are there on their breaks," Jamie laughs.

Jamie awkwardly tried to take Auggie's arm but the latter shrugged him away, determined to get the hang of this cane thing. He would not be hanging on people's arms for the rest of his life. For a long moment Jamie stared at his brother, unsure of what to do. Hands in his pockets he walked into the main isle as Auggie led himself right behind.

By the time the brothers made it to the hallway, however, Auggie's patience had been used up by a collision with the unopened chapel door and the near death experience with a man in a wheelchair. He reached out just slightly from his hip, looking for Jamie, but he couldn't find his brother's warmth. He must have been ahead.

"Jamie," he said in naught but a whisper. He rolled his eyes at his own pride and tried for a volume that someone other than a dog could hear, "Jamie?"

"Yup?"

There he was, just ahead. Auggie took a step forward and reached toward his brother, this time coming up with his t-shirt or something. After a slightly uncomfortable moment, Auggie took his brother's arm loosely, trying to swing his can in time with his footsteps. What had Jake said? Left foot forward, cane to the right and vice-versa.

"Y-you good," Jamie asked. Auggie knew the kid must be nervous if that stutter was bothering him. It made him angry, the fact that he used to be the one Jamie came to when he needed comfort and now he was the problem in the first place. It hit him then. This blindness was contagious, affecting everyone around him.

"Yea, I'm great," he answered dryly.

Hurried footsteps approached them and, though he was no expert, Auggie was almost positive they were headed straight for him. Unsure of what to do, he assumes that if he were about to run into someone Jamie would pull him out of the way.

_Smack_.

Or not. The world seems to toss him around a bit, someone's shoulder collided with his own and it knocked him off balance, though he wasn't sure he'd even found balanced yet. As he met with the floor, a jarring pain erupted through his not-yet-healed ribs. His head was spinning and his cane had rolled off somewhere. Jamie's hands immediately grabbed him and started pulling him up.

"Oh, my god, I-," a woman's voice began from somewhere above him. "I'm so sorry."

That voice was so familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. Whoever she was though, she knew him too, the recognition in her voice was unmistakable.

"Would you watch where you're going, Jesus," Jamie exclaimed as he went off after Auggie's cane, leaving Auggie standing in the middle of the hallway.

The vulnerability made Auggie cringe and something about this woman sent his guard up. He knew that voice.

"I really am sorry," the woman said again, but there was no remorse in her voice. It was cold, business-like.

And then it hit him.

"Here," Jamie said, pressing the cane to the back of Auggie's hand. "You okay? I'm sorry I thought she was going to move."

"It's fine. I'm fine," Auggie replied softly, letting the realization sink in. Vaguely he could feel Jamie take his arm and lead him forward, but he didn't feel like he was part of this planet anymore.

That voice had been haunting his dreams for more than a year and a half. That voice was the reason he was sent to Iraq. She was the one who got away. That was the woman he met with on his undercover mission to compromise Femme's next hit. And he was sure of one thing, if Femme hadn't know he was back before, they sure as hell did now.


	7. Death and All His Friends

**A/N: **This one was really easy to write once I figure out the best plan of attack. The next chapter will be Auggie, I swear to you and keep a look out for a sad little oneshot called Fading Photographs. I'm excited to write that one. Very brother-centric and we all know how much I love brothers. Anyways! I really would love to hear from you! Your theories on whats going to happen; our take on Vera; how Auggie will cope with the finality of his disability when he gets home! Talk to me peoples! I love you!

**Disclaimer: **I forgot this thing AGAIN earlier, but I remembered it now. I do NOT own CA but I do own Vera. So there.

Thanks for sticking with me guys!  
CA fandom is the greatest!

* * *

**Death and All His Friends**

Something made her stop in the doorway of room 212, some unknown force keeping her from going any further. (Apprehension?) She stared at the woman lying between crisp white hospital sheets, her flaming hair fanned out like a fiery halo. Though this woman had spent more than twenty years in the Circle, she looked like an innocent child now. No blood on her hands, incapable of manipulating the thoughts of unsuspecting bystanders. Surely this wasn't the woman who taught Vera how to kill a grown man without leaving a mark on his skin. Impossible.

Vera took several tentative steps forward. The breathing tubes were gone and it looked like this woman was just sleeping. Maybe it was just exhaustion or just plain inexperience in this field, but Vera felt like her heart was trying to flee her chest. Anxiety, she thought, what an awful feeling.

"Emma," she said softly as she took a seat beside her old mentor.

Hazy brown eyes fluttered open and settled on Vera's face. A small smile cracked the woman's mouth, crinkling the corners of her eyes.

"I should have known they would send you," she said. Her voice was soft, tired. "What should I call you?"

"Vera," she answered quietly.

"Vera… It's a pretty name, how did you come up with that one?"

"It's my birth name," Vera said. Emma's eyebrows raised considerably. "How are you feeling?"

"Let's not dance around the real questions, hmm? We don't have much time," there was something urgent in her voice. "I only have a few hours left."

"What are you talking about," Vera leaned in closer, so close that she could count every freckle on the other woman's face, "You're going to survive this one, Em."

"You don't understand, Vera. When a Femme agent is brought out into the public, she has an obligation to her cell… Vera- the sisterhood is going to know that I'm compromised and when that happens- If I don't do it, they will."

An icy chill trickled down Vera's spine. The implications were not lost on her.

"But how are you going to do it," she asked.

Emma gave a sad smile and opened her left hand to reveal a small white pill in her palm. It looked like a sugar pill to anyone ignorant of its purpose. Immediately, Vera began to steel herself for the reality that was settling in. After Emma gave her the needed intel, she would swallow that pill and suffer what looked to be a heart attack. But Vera would know better.

"Where did you get that?"

"A Femme agent has already been here with her best wishes, Vera. They're very efficient," Emma sighed.

"So it wasn't Femme who shot you, then."

"No. If they'd wanted me dead they wouldn't have been so sloppy," Emma said, pushing herself up a bit, "I pulled a hit on this man's son and somehow he found me. I can promise you that Femme won't let him live much longer, they don't take the death of their own lightly."

"Well, I suppose I should ask," Vera took a breath and stared Emma in the face, "Were you corrupt?"

"Hmm." Emma smiled for real then, her dark eyes pulsed with a strange light. "That's a good question. Femme believes in what they're doing, Vera. They have this uncanny way of justifying their actions. I have to admit that there were times when I wasn't sure whose side I was on."

"You're not answering my question," Vera said. Once again, she could feel the emotion draining from her voice. This was a job now.

"I don't think that I can answer your question." For several long moments the two women watched each other, a silent battle raging within each one. "I will tell you this. Femme operates much like the Circle. Their agents are few and each one operates individually. This makes them very hard to catch.

"There is one person running the entire operation, they call her Mother."

Vera scoffed despite herself. It was all so childish.

"I know it seems puerile, but this is a powerful woman and she has aspirations that could cause a multitude of problems. She has to be undone," Emma's tone wiped the smile from Vera's face. "Aside from her agents, she has somewhat of a council. They are her inner circle, the only ones she trusts with the location of her operations. They are the ones who decide what missions to take on and what ones to set aside.

"I have never been anywhere near that inner circle and I know that she didn't trust me all that much, but I do know one thing. She is trying to get some of her agents into the CIA."

"What," Vera had to keep herself from shouting out loud. "That's impossible, they wouldn't make it through the background check."

"You don't understand. Most of these girls are like you, Vera," Emma spoke as though to a small child, "They are pulled just after high school graduation, they don't have time to even get a background. Their birth names are discarded and they are trained to lie and manipulate. She wants these agents to bring her intel straight from the DCS and that kind of intel in the Mother's hands… You have to warn the DNI."

"I will. I promise."

With a hollow look in her eyes, Emma swallowed the pill.

xXx

Four minutes. That was how much time Emma had left to live. Vera couldn't help but wonder how many heartbeats that was, how many memories, how many breaths. Silent as a shadow, Vera made her way down the hall, ignoring Carter when he called her name. She needed to put as much space between herself and room 212 as possible.

Three minutes.

The cool of the evening air dried the tears that slid down Vera's face and she reprimanded herself for such a display of weakness. She had wanted to stay with Emma, no one should have to die alone, but Emma wouldn't have anything to do with it.

Two minutes.

She sat on a bench just outside the hospital with her head in her hands. Emma had been a mentor and a friend. The only one she had been able to trust for the longest time. Now who could she trust?

One minute.

There was still time to go back up. Time to hold her hand and wish her a safe travel to whatever was awaiting her on the other side. Be there a god or not, Vera wished her the best. But the moment passed and, just like that, another life was lost.


	8. Brush of Death

_**A/N**_: Okay! Last one before the yummeh stuff starts! Sorry this took me so long. My muse (Charlie) took an unexpected vacation and left me out to dry... But finally he sent me a post card instructing me briefly on the chapter. Sorry if it sucks... I tried pretty hard on this one but I wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. But this is what I came up with. Let me know what you think, good or bad, don't worry I can handle it! Thanks to all of you who have alerted and review and favorited! I appreciate it so much! Happy reading!

* * *

_**Brush of Death**_

Open and close. Open, close. Open. Close. For the past half an hour he had been at this, waiting for some change in his vision. Yes, he would go through rehab. Yes, he would use a cane sometimes. No, he wasn't going to accept the fact that he was going to be blind for the rest of his life. This would pass. Time would fix this. Or at least, that's what he was trying to convince himself. Finally, he closed his eyes, pressing his palms against his lids. He had to stop, his eyes were sore and he had more important things to worry about. Like surviving the night when that Femme agent came back.

Once all his brothers had filed out when visiting hours were over, he felt incredibly stranded. He was relieved though, at least they wouldn't be in the line of fire. The Femme agent's voice was playing over and over in his head, her tone like a cat's who finally had her prey under its paw. Auggie wanted nothing more than to run, but that was the last thing he could do. It almost felt like he was laying in bed waiting for death to visit him. The extra pain meds didn't help any either. Not only was it dark, but it felt like he was on a boat during a storm.

What was worse? There were agents out there that were 'on watch' but he had no way of knowing who they were or where they were so that he might tell them who was coming. He opened his eyes then, forcing himself to think logically. He grimaced, it was easier to think straight when he was drunk than medicated. But the meds couldn't be avoided, after his fall earlier his ribs felt like daggers in his side.

A soft knock and the click of the door handle caught his attention, followed by a scent so godly a smile tugged at his lips.

"Hey," a voice said softly. Auggie tried his best to lock onto the sound, but his head was swimming too much to allow it, "Hey, Auggie, it's Jai."

Subconsciously he rolled his eyes as the door clicked closed and footsteps approached him. What the hell did Jai Wilcox want? Although if that coffee was for him, he might feel more forgiving. Auggie sat up from his bed too quickly and a wave of nausea and dizziness descended. Grabbing the bed railing for support he swung his legs over the side of the mattress.

"Jai, I have never been so happy to see you," he smiled. Jai shifted uncomfortably by Auggie's choice of words. "You- you have to help me. She's coming for me."

"Auggie, what are you talking about?"

"Is that coffee," Auggie questioned, he couldn't help it. Yes, his life was at stake, but coffee might be able to clear his mind a bit. Muffle the effects of the morphine.

"Yes," Jai chuckled, "I figured you would be needing some."

Jai scrunched his brows together, trying to figure out exactly how to hand a cup of coffee to a blind person. It seemed ridiculous to him that there was no protocol for this situation. But thankfully Auggie held out his hand and Jai pressed it to his fingertips. There was a momentarily awkward silence between the two before Auggie remembered why he was so glad that Jai was there.

"The Femme agent," he said suddenly, "She's in the hospital, I ran into her in the hall earlier and I know that she recognized me."

Taking a sip of the warm liquid he smiled just slightly, the drink making him feel a bit more human than he had moments before. It was a staple of normalcy in a horrifyingly new situation.

"Damn," Jai muttered. "She must have been the one that visited the Femme agent Emma earlier…"

"Did you get anything out of her?" Auggie asked curiously.

"No, she's dead," Jai stated. Auggie nearly fell off the bed, last he heard she was awake and stable, "The doctors say it was a heart attack but the Agency has a different idea. We believe that they sent someone to get rid of her, to tie up loose ends so to speak. And, of course, it just had to be the agent that wants to kill you…"

"Sorry for the inconvenience," Auggie murmured.

Jai looked at him long and hard then, remembering the old August Anderson. They had never really gotten on well, especially after their assignment together failed miserably, in fact, Jai wasn't sure that 'miserably' was a strong enough word. But still, seeing such a good agent go down in such a cruel way was painful to witness.

"Listen, Auggie, I'm going to be just outside your door tonight, no one is going to get in here," Jai said, placing a hand on Auggie's shoulder as he stood. "You have nothing to worry about."

As Jai left the room, Auggie sat back against his pillow with the warm cup of coffee between his hands. A bitter smirk crossed his face as he considered Jai's words.

"Sure. Nothing to worry about…"

xXx

The moon was pregnant and low hanging, swollen with cool light. He found her sitting in silence on a bench just outside the hospital, the rays of the moon making her pale hair glow. As Carter sat beside her, he laid a hand on her back, rubbing a smooth circle. She pulled away.

"I don't have friends, Carter," she deadpanned, turning golden eyes on him. "So why is it when I find one, they're taken from me?"

"Because they're a weakness," Carter replied. He should know, his weakness was sitting beside him.

She stared at him a long while, her eyes hard and flat as glass. Her gaze a brush of death. It had been a long time since she last looked at him like that. Like a corpse sitting in front of him. But he knew that she was a pot of roiling emotions inside. He knew that this was her defense mechanism.

"So what's next," Vera asked coolly, turning her eyes back to the moon.

"Are you sure you're ready," Carter asked.

"I'm always ready."

"There is a Femme agent running loose in the hospital, we believe she is the one who brought the poison to Emma. We also believe that she has her sights set on an injured CIA operative just a couple rooms away from Emma's. He is responsible for the incarceration of a fellow Femme agent."

"What is his name," Vera asked, though she was almost positive that she already knew the answer.

"August Anderson."

Something sparked inside of her then, catching fire and spreading through her limbs. A smile curled on her lips. She would enjoy this kill.

At that moment, it hurt him to look at her. Wavy blonde hair, almost white beneath the light of the moon, framing her young face, golden eyes smoldering with adrenalin, her thin fingers loosening the braids from her hair. He could remember when that look held a different meaning. When that look was only for him.

"How will I identify her?"

xXx

For nearly an hour he had been falling in and out of sleep, restless and hot, it was impossible to get comfortable. He felt like an alien in his own skin, like a sitting duck waiting for the slaughter. Even at the slightest sound his entire body tensed, his eyes searching desperately for something they would never find.

When the door clicked open he all but jumped, his eyes staring at the door but receiving no information. The sound of soft soled shoes approached his bed. It's just a nurse, he thought to himself, trying to slow the frantic beat of his heart.

"Relax," the voice said softly. It sounded strange, unnatural, but he couldn't be sure why. "I'm just going to check your morphine drip."

His brow scrunched together, hadn't a nurse just come by to do that a few moments ago? He was almost positive that Sheila, the night nurse, had already been by. Ice raced through his veins. That's why her voice sounded so strange, she was trying to disguise it so he wouldn't recognize her in the only way he could.

He sat up and opened his mouth to yell or something, anything, but a wave of nausea and dizziness blanketed him, muffling his thoughts and reason. It was so sudden and so powerful that he thought he would pass out.

"Don't worry," she said, not trying to disguise herself anymore. "You'll go into heart failure soon, then it will all be over."

Her voice was like poison, her smile audible.

"Oh, and Jeanine sends her regards from prison."

He heard it then, the gentle click or the door handle and the nearly silent set of footsteps whose once perfect cadence was disrupted by a slight limp. The girl he met in the chapel. Vera. Everything was hazy; he wanted to call out to her, to tell her to run the other way, that this nurse was dangerous, but he couldn't get his tongue to work.

But then, something strange happened. There was commotion all around him, the sound of a surprised woman, two sets of footsteps fighting for dominance. The two women were fighting. There was a loud thud and he could hear the exertion that the fight was having on the two.

"Get- get the-," Vera's was shouting, trying to catch her breath, "Get the IV out of your hand!"

It finally registered in Auggie's mind. The nurse had put the poison in his morphine drip. He fumbled for a moment, his limbs struggling to find coordination. Finally he found the needle and yanked it out, the warmth of his own blood trickling down his hand. He had to fight to stay awake.

There was a sickening crack somewhere in front of his hospital bed followed by rushed footsteps and the door slamming against the wall.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Vera yelled, "Press your emergency button now and you might still have a chance."

With that she rushed out the door, shouting something as she did so. Once he got his thoughts pulled together he felt for the emergency button on the side of his bed, his chest beginning to constrict painfully, his breath coming in short puffs. Several sets of footsteps came through the door, voices washing around him in urgent tones, but before he could register what was happening, he took the plunge of unconsciousness.


	9. End Of An Era

_**A/N: **_Okay, before anyone has a heartattack on me, this is the **LAST CHAPTER** of the **FIRST PART** of this fanfic. I know, I know. So many loose ends, well, read the chapter, enjoy it, review and I shall explain more. You see, I cannot write a super long FF. So I've decided to separate it into two consecutive parts. I saw an ending so I took it, but I will post the next part soon, I promise! I ask for reviews very sweetly!

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Covert Affairs.

_**

* * *

**_

_**End of an Era**_

Hospital rooms are made small for a reason, August Anderson thought to himself, his ears listening intently to the chaos all about him, they were made small to discourage too many people from coming in to bother patients. Unfortunately it seemed the rest of the Anderson clan didn't catch the sentiment. All of Auggie's brother's had finally made it to the hospital, along with his parents who flew in from their 'honeymoon' in Hawaii. He felt like a spectacle.

At every word he said the room grew eerily quiet and he could feel seven pairs of eyes burning holes in his skin, no one would allow him to get up when he needed something, and people were always touching him, so many hands and fingers that he felt he would go insane. Were it not for Jamie, his mind would have been long gone by now.

But there was something that made everything worth it. It was the day he was going home. Finally, after nearly three weeks in the hospital, a brush of death and chest compressions that set his healing ribs back a couple weeks, he would be able to sit on his couch without nurses constantly prodding him with sharp needles and doctors telling him that he couldn't do the things he used to. It was depressing, though, the finality of his condition. Aw hell, who was he kidding, the finality of his _blindness_. He was leaving the hospital in the same fashion that he arrived. Broken.

"Doctor's almost finished signing your release papers," Jamie said, sitting on the arm of the recliner that his older brother had been made to sit in. "You alright?"

"I'm having the time of my life," Auggie smiled sardonically, closing his eyes and laying his head back on the chair.

"They're here because they care about you," Jamie said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Give them a break."

"Hey, it's not like I've said anything, alright," Auggie hissed. His calm persona was wearing thin, being torn open by the monster named frustration.

"Alright everyone," Julia Anderson said by way of hushing the room, "August, you've been cleared, it's time to get you home!"

Her voice was pleasant and calm, but as she touched her hand to Auggie's arm, he could feel her shaking. It was an improvement to the blubbering woman who appeared in his room nearly a week before, but it was still painful for him to endure. He stood to his feet, noticing that the rush of vertigo that accompanied the movement wasn't quite as bad anymore.

"Time to go home," he smiled.

xXx

Jewel colored leaves rustled on the trees, their vibrancy singing of Fall's arrival. Vera smiled to herself, all her best childhood memories were pulled to the front of her mind with the sights and sounds of fall. She had been waiting patiently for nearly an hour, having arrived early to enjoy the solitary serenity of quiet nature. Eyes scanning the park, she watched young families play with their children, singles walking their dogs and couples picnicking in the shade, there was laughter everywhere, joining in harmony with the song of nature. Briefly she wondered what it would be like to have such a normal life, to have children, a permanent home. A husband.

She saw him then, approaching her with a casual smirk on his face, a look only Carter could wear. It had been a long time since they had met in the daylight hours, his deep brown complexion standing out beneath the sun. Vaguely she wondered if his skin was as warm as she remembered.

"I understand you found her," he smiled as he sat beside her, "You've impressed even the Director."

"He's only just impressed by me," Vera said coyly.

"He isn't, however, particularly pleased about where you left the body."

"Perhaps he should give specific instructions next time," she smirked.

Carter looked at her then, a strange look that made his eyes burn amber. Only once before had he looked at her that way, as though he was reading her thoughts, looking through her like glass. It gave her chills.

"You're free, Vera," he said gently, suddenly preoccupied with the gardens across the path, "It's time to make a life you can call your own."

An overwhelming sense of vertigo fell over Vera in a thick veil, her breath knocked from her lungs. She had expected another job, another operation to immerse herself in, something to distract her from the new blood with which she painted her hands. But this? What was this?

"Wh-what do you mean?" Panic was threatening to escape her tongue. "You told me that the Director has plans for me-"

"He does. Listen to me," he said, taking her hands in his. The contrast in color was fantastic, dark brown against alabaster. "It's only temporary. But he needs you to lay low, make a name for yourself as a person, Vera. Once you're needed you'll know. It's all a matter of time."

Her breathing slowed then, her panic naught but a shadow.

"I-I'm leaving." Carter said absently.

"What are you talking about, Carter?"

"Jai," he said softly, gazing distractedly at her thin fingers.

"What?"

"It's my real name, Jai Wilcox," he looked up at her, their eyes meeting in a clash of mahogany and honey. "I wanted you to know, I trust you."

"Jai," she repeated, tasting the word on her tongue, "Why are you leaving?"

"I have a job in London doing work for the DCS, my more official employer," he dropped her hands and her gaze, standing from his seat on the bench. "You won't need a handler for your next job anyways."

"Wait," she called as he turned from her, walking away. He paused. "This isn't goodbye is it?"

"No." He smiled with his back towards her. He had hoped she would say it. "It's not goodbye."

It was the end of an era and it seemed she would be starting the next one alone.

xXx

The café bubbled with caffeinated life; coffee mugs clanging, mumbled conversations in such a speed that was nearly indecipherable, chairs being pulled across pavement making a nerve grating sound, and the whirling smells of flavored coffee. His out-of-hospital mobility instructor, Tristan, had told him that getting out in public would be good for him. Auggie was doubtful. Sitting alone at this outdoor table made him feel anxious and vulnerable. Not that he was truly alone, Jamie was inside waiting for their lunch. Still. He didn't like this.

He clutched his folded white/red cane so hard that his knuckles lost their color, his foot tapping a rhythm of anxiety. There were voices everywhere, some so loud that he could swear they were next to him. He couldn't take much more of this, he just wasn't ready and he wasn't sure that he ever would be. It had been nearly a week since he left the hospital and he still felt like he'd lost his sight yesterday.

A pair of clacking heels on the sidewalk nearly pushed him over the edge, his brain almost too full of commotion to notice the faint floral scent that accompanied the shoes. It clicked then. Those heels and that scent, they were familiar, he knew that combination.

"Joan?"

"Anderson," the sound of metal scraping along pavement told him that she was taking the seat across from him, "It's good to see you on two feet again."

"I didn't realize you made house calls, Joan," Auggie smiled, proud of himself for identifying her before she spoke, "Or am I just special?"

"I thought you should at least know what's going on," she diverted the question, "The Femme agent who tried to kill you has been found."

"Oh? Where did you find her?"

"Dead. In the shadow of the Washington Monument," Auggie didn't need to see Joan's face to know she was smirking, he had to admit that he was impressed as well, "Whoever it was wanted to make a statement."

"Clearly," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He hadn't told them about Vera, in fact, he had lied and told them he had no idea who his savior was, male or female.

"The DCS is very curious to know more about whoever did this," Joan said cryptically, "But we've already established your knowledge of this person if vague..."

When Auggie didn't respond she continued.

"I also came to discuss your return to my department."

Subconsciously, Auggie's eyes rolled. He couldn't believe what she was saying to him. It was almost insulting.

"What is it you propose that I do," he said in harsh tones, leaning across the table towards Joan, "I can't even read my own name right now, much less do anything in the field-"

"There's more to the CIA than field work, Anderson, and you know that," Joan said smoothly, "I want you in my tech department as soon as you're cleared for work. You'll be training to replace Pete Meyers."

"Head of Tech Ops," Auggie had to keep himself from yelling the words, "Joan, I just don't think-"

"Listen. Pete is coming close to retirement and I need someone that I can trust. It's hard to find a decent tech operative as it is, but especially someone with experience in the field. Your insight would be beneficial to my department and if you think I'm going to pass up that opportunity, you are mistaken."

"Heh." This was impossible to wrap his mind around, "And what does Arthur think about this?"

"Arthur isn't your concern," she answered briskly, standing to leave, "Prove yourself and you will have nothing to worry about. You've never had trouble with that before, don't start now."

With a gentle hand on his shoulder, she was gone.

"Who was that?"

Jamie's voice startled him so much that he jumped, his mind so full with information that he wasn't sure how to organize it all.

"Oh, uh- I knocked my cane off the table and she picked it up for me," he lied smoothly. The were a few clanging noises on the table and the smell of fresh bread and finely sliced meat made his mouth water.

"Your drink is at ten o'clock," Jamie said, watching as his brother's fingers slid across the table, finding his cup. It was hard for him not to just hand him the glass, but Tristan insisted that Auggie do everything for himself at first. "That was really nice of her."

"Hmm? Oh, yea," Auggie smiled to himself, Jamie just had no idea, "It was really nice of her."


	10. AN

_**A/N**_: Greetings my friends! It's been awhile since I've done anything with this FanFic but it's definitely been on my mind these last few months. I recently went to see the movie Red and I was inspired to epic proportions. If you haven't seen it you really should.

I just finished reading over this entire fanfic and I have to say that (even though there were a couple of technical errors) I'm pretty pleased with it and I'm definitely going to continue it. I've decided that there are going to be three parts to it, the second one should be up very soon. Part two will center around Auggie and Vera, their relation in both business and personal, some of Auggie's recovery but not much. Patricia Louise has got the recovery fic thing mastered so if you want that check her out. But the third part will be the most fun I think because it will actually be a current fic with Auggie and Annie! Yay! Finally!

Well, I hope you guys will look out for the next part! I miss hearing from you guys and I can't wait to reenter this journey with you!


End file.
